


Kinktober: 1. Masks

by TeaBeast



Series: Kinktober 2018 [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Daredevil - Freeform, Dom Matt Murdock, Dom!Matt, Drabble, Frank Castle - Freeform, Frank Doesn't Know When To Shut Up, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Kinktober, Kinktober 2016, M/M, Masks, Matt Murdock - Freeform, Matt Spent Way Too Long Planning This, Matthew Murdock - Freeform, Nothing Too Bad But I Wouldn't Read It In Front Of Your Gran, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Sensory Deprivation, Sub Frank Castle, Sub!Frank, The Punisher, Topping from the Bottom, kink drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 23:39:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16169144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaBeast/pseuds/TeaBeast
Summary: In which Matt persuades Frank to engage in a bit of light sensory play and hints at role reversal. Almost bordering on fluff and no one gets naked.





	Kinktober: 1. Masks

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first drabble in the Kinktober series in which I try to write a little ficlet each day. Will probably convert the most popular ones into full fics.

“I never saw you as the kinky type, Red. Then again, Catholic. Figures...”

Frank's voice was a low, lazy rumble from the very depths of his chest. Mirroring the way he sat in the corner of Matt's empty apartment. A slight echo rang across the blank walls and the Devil wished that voice could reverberate around and through him forever. He'd put his old mask on Frank; tied it tight around his head and asked him to sit. It took a few moments before he realised he'd recreated their fateful meeting on the rooftop, only their roles were now reversed, and Matt had no intention of shooting him.

“This thing still smells like blood..”

Matt heard the deep inhale, could _keenly_ hear the amusement in the other man's voice. He stood stock still as he took in Frank's form before him. Long legs lazily stretched out, thick thighs parted as if arrogantly displaying himself. But that wasn't Frank's way, _prideful_ yes... Arrogance? Not so much. Not in the way people accused Matt of arrogance.

Usually in the height of fear or excitement, Matt would be able to hear and _feel_ the other person's heartbeat. Rabbit fast and loud as a bass drum. But from Frank there was nothing but the almost slow steady beat. For a man soaked in violence and as volatile as he was, he had such impressive control over himself. Only the occasional slight skip of his pulse, the warm amusement in his voice and the way his tongue slicked across his lower lip told Matt that the other man was _very_ pleased to be there.

“Love these little talks, but you gotta let me get a word in edgeways sometimes, Red. Kinda starting to think you're into the sound of your own voice.”

A lopsided grin followed by the slight cocking of his head. Matt knew what he was up to. Trying to get him to answer. Trying to figure out where he was. But he wouldn't be giving Frank the satisfaction of even the slightest sound. His own breathing soft and steady, the first footstep he took towards the waiting man completely silent. As was the second. And the third.

Slowly he crouched between Frank's spread legs and pressed gloved hands to his knees. Matt was rewarded by Frank jumping slightly; his lips parting in a surprised little hiss. The tension in Frank's body was like lightning to Matt's specialised senses. Like the crack of a whip. The sparks of fireworks through closed eyes. That fight or flight reflex that almost always swayed towards the former was hot and heavy and on the very edge of a decision.

“There you are.”

No sharp edges to that voice. Only softness and warmth. And steadily... Steadily... The tension began to slip way from Frank's body. His hands reached out to cover the back of Matt's, then with an amused quirk of his mouth, leaned forward to smooth palms up Matt's arms, across his shoulders and settle at either side of his neck. Thumbs moving up to smooth across the thick line of the Devil's mask.

“You wearing the suit?”

Frank's hands smoothed down Matt's chest over leather and kevlar; answering his own question and his grin widening. A course bark of laughter erupted from his throat and Frank grabbed the other man by the hips and tugged him hard into his waiting lap.

“Well now I feel underdressed, you didn't tell me there was a dress code.”

“You're ruining the mood...”

Matt winced a little at the slight sulky tone that had entered his voice. There was a moment in which he worried that Frank was laughing _at_ him rather than _with_ him. That this had all been a terrible idea and that the other man was _really_ not into this at all. He needn't of worried, as large war-calloused hands continued to explore; despite there not being much skin on show to enjoy. Well... _Scars._ They both had a reverence for each others scars that they had decided not to talk about.

Frank rubbed the small horns on the either side of Matt's mask before gripping the back of his head and tugging him ever closer.

“So... If you're the devil, does that make me the angel in your story?”

“Something like that.”

“You're fucking weird, you know that, Red?”

“You're still here though.”

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”


End file.
